


Let's Hurt Tonight

by eternaleponine



Series: Where There Is A Flame [14]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deleted Scenes, Gen, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Multiple, Warning: Mentions of Rape, Warning: attempted suicide, Warning: child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 20:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11699358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: I'll hit the lights and you lock the doorsTell me all of the things that you couldn't beforeDon't walk away, don't roll your eyesThey say love is pain, well darling, let's hurt tonight- OneRepublic,Let's Hurt TonightThe worst (and almost last) day of Echo's life, and how she got there.A deleted scene fromWhere There Is A Flame.  Takes place after Chapter 159.





	Let's Hurt Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings in the tags. This is not a light or easy story.

**Today: January 27, 2017**

_Group Message to Anya, Raven, Lexa, Clarke, Octavia, Lincoln, Emori_

**Ontari:** Hey guys? Has anyone seen or talked to Echo today?

 **Ontari:** I just tried calling her and it went straight to voicemail. 

**Octavia:** Maybe her phone died?

**Ontari:** She never lets it die. Ever. Have you seen her?

**Octavia:** Not since yesterday. Maybe the day before.

**Emori:** I saw her yesterday. 

**Lincoln:** I'm not home or I would go see if she's in her room. She's usually still asleep now.

**Octavia:** I'm home. I'll go check.

**Emori:** So am I.

**Clarke:** Shouldn't you be in class, young lady? ;-)

**Octavia:** :-P I forgot my paper. Better to get to class late with it than to get there on time without it. 

**Lexa:** Did something happen?

**Ontari:** I just need to know she's okay.

**Octavia:** I don't think she is.

**Lincoln:** What do you mean?

**Octavia:** Her stuff is gone. Completely. Bed stripped, drawers empty... like she was never there.

**Emori:** Her car's still in the driveway, though.

**Clarke:** Maybe someone picked her up from work last night? No, then her car would be at her job.

**Emori:** She left money, though. And a note.

**Raven:** What does it say?!

**Emori:** "Rent and utilities for the next two months to give you time to find someone else to take the room."

**Anya:** That's it?

**Emori:** Yeah.

**Raven:** It doesn't necessarily mean anything. Except that she left.

**Octavia:** Without telling anyone. In the middle of the night. Without her car.

**Emori:** I saw her with a garbage bag of stuff yesterday. She said she was taking it to goodwill. I didn't think anything of it. 

**Lexa:** Ontari, what happened?

**Ontari:** We just got into a fight. I said some shit... 

**Clarke:** What did you say?

**Ontari:** It doesn't matter. It wasn't nice. That's all you need to know. Then I woke up this morning and I had an alert from my bank that I'd gotten a wire transfer, which I wasn't expecting, and when I called them to find out who it was from, they told me it was from Echo. And it was a lot of money. Like, A LOT of money. Had to be every cent she has.

**Anya:** We need to find her. NOW.

**Clarke:** You don't think...?

**Anya:** Who else might she have been in contact with recently?

**Emori:** Niylah, maybe? I think they hook up sometimes. Hold on.

**Niylah is added to the conversation.**

**Emori:** Have you seen Echo lately? Or heard from her?

**Niylah:** Not since the march, why? I'm at work.

**Ontari:** FUCK. I'm getting in my car now.

**Anya:** Wait. Is there anywhere she might go? Anywhere that was special to her that you know of?

**Niylah:** What's going on?

**Clarke:** No one's seen Echo since yesterday. Her phone's off, her room is empty, and she sent all of her money to Ontari. 

**Niylah:** No. Oh no.

**Ontari:** I can't think of anywhere. I didn't know her that well. 

**Octavia:** I thought you grew up with her!

**Ontari:** I did, but I was a kid, and she was an adult! She didn't share her secrets with me!

**Anya:** Ontari, you need to think. Or tell us someone who might know. Someone she WAS close to.

**Ontari:** WHY THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I TEXTED YOU ALL?! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE HER FRIENDS. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO KNOW THESE THINGS ABOUT HER.

**Lincoln:** It'll be okay. We'll find her.

**Emori:** How? Ontari's right. We're supposed to be her friends. We're supposed to know her. And I don't. Do you?

**Octavia:** Maybe she just needs space. Maybe something happened at home and she

**Raven:** You're not that naïve, O.

**Anya:** Niylah, anywhere she ever took you?

**Niylah:** We didn't really go OUT much. And by 'much' I mean 'at all'.

**Lexa:** We need to figure something out. The longer we wait...

**Clarke:** I assume she would go somewhere where she could be alone. Undisturbed.

**Emori:** Guys I just found something else.

**Anya:** What?

**Ontari:** What?

**Emori:** A set of keys. The house keys and a car key. Hold on.

**Raven:** This is seriously fucked up.

**Lincoln:** She seemed fine last time I talked to her.

**Emori:** I just checked the car, and she left the title, registration, everything in the glove compartment. Title is signed, and a bill of sale for $1.00. Like she wanted whoever found her keys to be able to have the car.

**Anya:** We need to find her. You need to think, Ontari. 

**Emori:** I just found her phone in here too. It was turned off... and of course she's got a fucking passcode. 

**Ontari:** 0279

**Raven:** Thought you didn't know her that well.

**Ontari:** I don't have to know her well to have watched her key it in and remembered.

**Emori:** I'm in, but what am I looking for?

**Lexa:** Lyft? If she went somewhere, she had to get there somehow, right?

**Emori:** Good call. There's a ride in progress, but not for much longer.

**Anya:** What's the address?

**Emori:** Hold on. 

**Emori:** It's a park. Like a national park. 

**Ontari:** Which one?

**Emori:** Great Falls. Why?

**Ontari:** She took me there once. When she got her driver's license. There was a place where if you shouted it echoed back to you. She said it made her feel at home. Even the hills knew her name.

**Lexa:** And at this time of year, it'll be practically deserted.

**Niylah:** Shit.

**Anya:** Good. That's good. That's a place to start. We'll figure it out from there.

**Octavia:** What if you can't find her, though. The park's probably huge.

**Anya:** It's all we've got to go on right now. It's better than nothing.

**Ontari:** I'm getting in my car now, but promise you'll let me know if you find her.

**Anya:** We will. But Ontari, you need to be prepared for the fact that we may not find her.

**Ontari:** Don't. Don't say that. Don't say it. I can't even think about that right now.

**Lexa:** Drive safe, Ontari.

* * *

_Group Message with Anya, Raven, Lexa, Clarke, Octavia, Lincoln, Emori, Niylah_

**Anya:** We need to figure out who's going. And whoever does go needs to be prepared for the fact that if we find her, we may be too late.

 **Octavia:** I'll go.

**Lincoln:** You have to turn in your paper.

**Octavia:** Fuck the paper. 

**Lincoln:** It's a quarter of your grade. You have to turn in the paper.

**Octavia:** Fuck.

**Niylah:** I'm going. I just told my boss there's a family emergency. Close enough.

**Raven:** How many people do you think should go? Is this one of those situations where it's better to have a bunch of people show up to prove how much we care, or would that just be overwhelming? 

**Lexa:** Do any one of us actually have any idea how to handle something like this? We've all proven that we don't really know her. 

**Octavia:** I've had to talk my mom through shit, but... not this. 

**Lincoln:** Luna.

**Lexa:** What about her? I think she's met Echo maybe twice.

**Lincoln:** She volunteers for a crisis line. She might actually know what to say.

**Lexa:** Do you want to call her or should I?

**Lincoln:** I'm already calling.

**Clarke:** How the hell did we miss this?

**Raven:** Don't blame yourself, Clarke. You're not her keeper. None of us are.

**Octavia:** Obviously. If we're the only friends she has... no wonder she's miserable. 

**Lincoln:** She says she'll do it. 

**Anya:** Good. Thank you. Me, Luna, and Niylah will go. That's as many as will comfortably fit in a car, leaving a seat for her for the return trip. Which, with any luck, we'll need.

**Lexa:** Keep us posted. Please.

**Anya:** I will. 

**Clarke:** Good luck. If that's even appropriate.

**Raven:** We need more than luck. We need a miracle.

* * *

**Six Days Earlier**

_Ontari_

"Did you have a good time?" Echo asked. She had flopped back on her bed, arms behind her head and her legs crossed at the ankles. Actually casual, or posed?

Ontari turned to look at her, narrowing her eyes like that would help her see any traps that Echo was trying to lay with the seemingly innocuous question. After Echo had taken her in when her mother – no, _not_ her mother, she needed to stop thinking of Nia as her mother – kicked her out on Christmas Eve, she'd thought that maybe things had changed. Maybe things would be better. The two of them against the world, or at least against the Ice Queen that had raised them. Well, raised her, and sort of raised Echo. 

She's gone back to school feeling good about things, but then this morning, practically at the ass crack of dawn, everything had fallen apart again. 

"Did you?" she countered. "It must have been really hard, being around all of those strong, independent women who actually have thoughts and opinions of their own."

Echo didn't move. Barely blinked. One eyebrow quirked up, and that was all, the sum total of her reaction. "Who pissed in your Cheerios?" she asked. "Or spit in your breakfast burrito, I guess."

"If you have to ask, you obviously haven't been paying attention," Ontari said, and began to jam her clothing into her bag. She was exhausted after a day on her feet, but the idea of staying here for a minute longer was more than she could handle. 

"That was an evasion, not an answer," Echo said. "And passive-aggressive to boot."

"Fuck you," Ontari spat, yanking her phone charger from the wall even though her phone had barely any battery left. She would plug it in in the car. 

Echo finally sat up. "What did I do?" she asked. "Why are you so pissed at me?"

"Again, if you have to ask—"

"Don't pull that bullshit, Ontari! I'm already exhausted, and I have to be at work in less than two hours. I don't have time to play mind games."

"You would also need to have a mind of your own in order to play them," Ontari pointed out. "It must really suck, not having her around to do your thinking for you."

"Is this about your mo—"

"She is _not_ my mother!" Ontari shouted, so close to Echo's face that flecks of spit landed on it. "Do you fucking understand that? She is _not_ my mother!"

"Maybe not by nature," Echo said, "but by nurture, you are so much like her—"

Ontari brought up her hand... and then realized that that would only prove Echo's point, so she lowered it. Rage simmered under her skin, looking for an outlet, but they had reached an impasse. Finally she turned her attention back to packing.

Echo pushed herself up, uncoiling long limbs. "You don't have to go," she said. "You can have my bed for the night."

"You'll need it when you get home from work," Ontari said, "and there's no way in hell I'm—"

"I wasn't actually planning on coming home," Echo said smoothly. "Stay here. Sleep. Leave in the morning." She went to her closet and pulled out clothing, stripping down and changing as if Ontari wasn't even there. She grabbed her jacket and slid it on. "Just text me when you get back to school, so I know you're okay."

And then she was gone.

* * *

**Three Days Ago**

_Echo_

**Ontari:** You didn't leave, did you? Not of your own volition.  
 **Ontari:** You didn't leave. She sent you packing.

Echo tried to pretend that the words didn't hurt. She tried to tell herself that Ontari was just blowing off steam, just an angry kid lashing out with whatever she thought would inflict the most damage. 

She wasn't wrong.

**Echo:** I'm not doing this via text.

A second later her phone rang, Ontari's name popping up on the screen. She swiped to answer it. "Hey," she said, already exhausted before the conversation – fight – even started. 

"So you admit it, then," Ontari said. "You didn't quit. She fired you."

"It's complicated," Echo said. She sat down on the edge of her bed, leaning forward to prop her elbows on her knees, the hand not holding the phone rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "But if you want to be technical, yes, she fired me."

Silence on the other end, and Echo braced herself for the explosion. The righteous indignation or whatever form of fury Ontari decided to unleash. She didn't know the whole story... she probably didn't even know half of it. She had her own issues with Nia, and that was fine, Echo got it, she had every right to be angry. 

She was just really tired of being the target of that anger when she wasn't the cause of it. She was really tired in general. She'd thought maybe over the holidays, they'd found some kind of understanding, some kind of peace, but that had imploded on the morning of the Women's March, and Echo honestly still wasn't sure why.

"And you would go crawling back, wouldn't you?" Ontari asked. "If she would have you, you would go right back to her, even after everything she did to you, to me, even after everything she had you do."

"It's—"

"Complicated. Yeah, you already said that." A pause, and then, "You know that if she took you back she would expect more, right? She would expect you to give up _everything_ for her, everything that has ever mattered to you. But I guess you're okay with that."

Not a question. An accusation. 

"She wouldn't even ask. She would just take. Everything you were willing to give, and everything you weren't, too, and she wouldn't care what it did to you, what it cost you. Because she _doesn't care_ , Echo. That's what you never understood, and what I always did. She doesn't care. She never did, and she never will. You're not a person. You're a thing, and as soon as you're not useful to her anymore..."

Echo felt as if the world had compressed around her, the darkness of her room tangling around her and pinning in her place as she fought to draw a full breath, to respond in some way. But there was no response to that, no defense. It was true, and she knew that it was true.

Ontari sighed. "Well I'm going to do you a favor, and give her one less thing to take away, when she decides you're useful again. Because she can't take what's already gone."

Echo said nothing. She could see where this was going, like you could see two cars on a collision course and see, too, that there was no time, no opportunity, to avoid the crash. 

"I'm done with her," Ontari said. "I'm done with anything that might drag me back into her web. Which means I'm done with you. Forget I ever existed, forget I ever thought you were anyone special, because I know now that it was all – that _you_ are – a lie. We're better off without each other."

And then she hung up. 

Echo stared at the phone in her hands, at the screen signaling that the call had ended before going black. 

She didn't understand where all of this was coming from, specifically, but it didn't really matter. The outcome was the same. Ontari had finally gotten far enough away from Nia to see just how poisonous she was, and she'd decided – realized – that Echo was tainted with that same poison. Corrupted by it. 

She was better off without that in her life. 

Ontari was right. She _had_ done her a favor. Months of indecision, of stagnation, shattered and she saw now with crystal clarity what she had to do.

* * *

**Today**

_Ontari_

_This isn't my fault._

_If Echo is—_

_If she—_

_It's not my fucking fault._

The thoughts ran through Ontari's head over and over as she drove, pushing the speed limit as much as she could without risking drawing attention to herself and getting pulled over, which would only delay her from getting... where? Home? It wasn't home. 

'I'm sorry I was going so fast, Officer, but I need to get to my—'

What? Echo wasn't her sister. She wasn't her cousin, or even her pseudo-cousin like she'd told Lexa and her friends back on Christmas Eve. Echo wasn't the daughter of a family friend... it had just been the easiest explanation. The most convenient and plausible lie. 

They weren't family.

They weren't even friends. Not really.

Ontari was a pawn and Echo was a tool. A weapon. 

Ontari had watched her being forged, watched her mother hone her softness into edges, watched as she was turned from a girl to a blade with edges so sharp you didn't know you'd been cut until you bled.

She'd watched it happen, helpless to stop it. She'd been a child. 

They'd both been children.

She remembered the girl Echo had been, that first day and not much longer. 

She wondered if anyone else did.

Including Echo.

* * *

**Nine Years Ago**

_Ontari_

"We're going to have someone staying with us for a while," Nia told her, her fingers wrapped tight around her upper arm so that she couldn't move. Not that she would move. She didn't even fidget. She knew better. "I expect you to make her feel welcome."

"Yes ma'am," Ontari said, looking her in the eye because that's what she expected. 

"And for god's sake, go get yourself cleaned up. You look like you were raised in a barn." 

"Yes ma'am," Ontari repeated, and as soon as Nia let her go, she went to her room to go change into something clean, and to brush her hair. It _was_ a little tangled, she guessed, but what did you expect when you were practicing doing flips on the trampoline? 

She wondered who their guest was. If Nia was telling her, that probably meant it wasn't just a grown-up, because her mom – foster mom? She didn't know really what to call her, but she knew when anyone else was around, she was supposed to call her Mom – wouldn't have bothered to tell her to make an adult feel welcome. More likely she would have told her to just stay out of their way, and to speak only when spoken to. 

Which meant it might be another kid. A flash of excitement that was quickly devoured by the green-eyed monster of jealousy that was pretty much always gnawing in her gut. If Nia – Mom – was bringing another kid here, it could only be because she wasn't good enough. She wasn't cute anymore – she'd gotten too big to really be cute – and now Nia wanted someone younger, cuter, better to show off to the press, to show how maternal she was. 

Which meant even less attention for her. Which sometimes was okay, because it meant she got to do what she wanted, as long as it wouldn't get the attention of anyone that mattered, but sometimes all she wanted was for Nia to actually _see_ her, and to treat her like she was something other than an accessory, a project to be paraded around when it suited her, and a potential liability. 

She pushed her hair back out of her face with a headband and went to go spy on what was going on downstairs. She knew all of the best hiding spots in this house, and she wanted to see this new person, whoever they were, before they saw her. 

She didn't have to wait long. The front door opened, and a man – one of Nia's drivers – stepped inside carrying a bag. Not even a suitcase, just a duffel bag like when people went to the gym. He kept walking, carrying it up the stairs, and Ontari pressed herself back into the shadows as he passed, then peered back out.

The only other person in the foyer was a girl. Not a little one, though, like Ontari had expected. Not some cute new Little Orphan Annie. This girl was older, a teenager, tall and beautiful. She was looking around with wide eyes, like she'd never seen anything like this place. 

Nia was nowhere in sight, and no one else appeared to greet the girl and tell her where to go, either. Maybe she hadn't realized she was supposed to follow the driver? 

Well... Nia _had_ told her to make her feel welcome...

She slid out of her hiding place and walked carefully down the stairs, not wanting to make too much noise and have someone scold her for sounding like a herd of elephants. When she realized that the girl had noticed her and was watching her descend, her cheeks flushed pink, but she kept coming. 

"Hi," she said when she got to the bottom. "Hello. I'm Ontari." She offered her hand, and the girl reached out and shook it. 

"I'm Echo," the girl said. 

"Really?" Ontari asked, the word slipping out before she could stop it. She ground her teeth together to keep from saying anything else stupid. 

"Really," Echo said, but she was smiling. "Ontari isn't exactly a name you hear every day, either," she added. 

She had a point. "Are you going to be staying here?"

"That's what Sen—what Nia said." Echo looked like she wasn't quite sure she believed it, or maybe like she wasn't sure she belonged in a place like this. Ontari didn't bother to tell her that _no one_ felt like they belonged in a place like this... except maybe Nia. It was the kind of place that never really felt like home. More like a hotel where you stayed for a really long time. 

"Okay," Ontari said. "Did she tell you where you're staying?"

Echo shook her head. 

Ontari bit the inside of her cheek. A bad habit she needed to break before Nia decided to break it for her. She'd seen the direction that the driver went... they could probably find wherever he'd put her bag without too much trouble. "I'll show you," she said. "This way."

She was a little surprised when Echo actually followed her. She wasn't used to being taken seriously by anyone but the staff, and even then it was mostly the ones who were lower down the pecking order, because they were the ones most likely to lose their jobs if she complained about them. Not that she ever did. 

Thankfully, the driver had left the door of the room where he'd put Echo's bag open, so all they had to do was walk down the hall to find it. "This is yours," Ontari said, and watched as Echo stepped inside and looked around again, trying to take it all in. "I'll leave you to unpack."

"You don't have to go," Echo said. "It won't take long."

So Ontari stayed, and watched as she unpacked a few outfits into the drawers and closet. She wasn't sure that Echo should even have bothered; as soon as Nia got a look at what she'd brought, it would disappear and be replaced by newer and better. Because that's what Nia did. She came in and made over your life until it was up to her standards. 

When she was done, Echo looked at Ontari. "So what do you do for fun around here?" she asked. 

Ontari's eyebrows went up. That wasn't what she'd been expecting. She'd thought that Echo would ask to see Nia, or to be left alone. No one – especially no one who looked like her – would have any reason to want to spend time with her. 

"We just got a trampoline..." Ontari offered, bracing herself for Echo to roll her eyes.

"Oh nice," Echo said. "You want to show me?"

"Sure," Ontari said. "I was working on doing a back flip earlier, but I haven't gotten it yet."

"You will," Echo said. 

And that was it. That was all it took. Two words, and Ontari's allegiance flipped from her mother to this girl she barely knew. She didn't care anymore about having or holding Nia's attention. From that moment, all she wanted was to be number one to Echo.

* * *

**Today**

_Echo_

Echo stared out over the rocks and the river. She thought about calling out to hear her own voice bounced back to her... if she said her name the hills would say it back... but she stayed quiet. There was no point now. The hills didn't know her. The rocks didn't care.

She was alone. 

There had been a time Before. Before she had become who she'd become, who Nia had shaped her to be. Before she'd done the things she'd done... and had done to her things she tried not to think about... Before she'd tried to do something good and failed, even though she still wasn't sure how or why. 

She'd put her affairs in order as best she could. Her money had gone to Ontari, everything else to charity. She'd left money for her housemates so they weren't left having to cover for her. She'd left them her car and everything they needed to take ownership of it. She wanted to make things easy...

It was cold. Too cold to be standing out here in pants and a light shirt, but it wouldn't matter soon.

Except she'd been standing here for a long time (at least it felt like a long time) and she still hadn't done anything. She knew what she needed to do, had tried to think of everything she needed to do beforehand, but she hadn't actually thought very much about how she was going to do it, when the moment came. 

The trouble was that she didn't want anyone to have to find her. She didn't want to do that to anyone. And if someone had to find her, she wanted to give them some kind of plausible deniability. Hiking accident. Exposure. Something that wouldn't raise eyebrows, wouldn't lead to an investigation. 

She didn't want anyone to waste their time on her.

She wasn't worth it. 

She wasn't worth anything.

If she'd been thinking, she would have gotten a hose and some duct tape. Carbon monoxide would be easy. Painless. But then her car might be ruined. 

Pills... but she didn't have pills. If she'd had more time she could have gotten them, but she didn't want to draw this out. She didn't want to give herself time to second guess. 

She didn't have a gun.

She had a knife. Her father had given it to her a long time ago, in another life, when she was another person. A different person, maybe a better one. 

_A knife is a tool, Echo,_ he'd told her. _It is no better or worse than the person wielding it._

She drew it from its sheath and knelt at the edge of the cliff. If she worked things right, when she got to the point where she couldn't stay upright anymore, she would fall and keep falling, and be lost in the river below and maybe never seen again. 

Her hand shook as she pressed the blade into the skin of her forearm, dragging it up toward her elbow, and she watched as blood welled up, but she couldn't make herself cut deep enough. She stared at the rivulets of red that dripped down her wrist and pooled in the palm of her hand.

With a deep, shuddering breath, she turned the knife around and aimed the point straight at her gut, clasping her bloody left hand tight over the right one. 

_Forgive me,_ she thought at no one in particular.

* * *

**Today**

_Anya_

"Have you ever done this before?" Niylah asked from the back seat.

Luna looked back at her. "Not face to face," she said. "But I've talked to people who have wanted to end their lives before."

"What happened?" Niylah asked. 

"I don't know," Luna admitted. "There is no way for me to know what happened after they hung up the phone. It's all anonymous."

Anya glanced at Niylah in the rearview mirror. She wanted to tell her that it would be okay, that this would all turn out fine, but she couldn't. She didn't want to lie to her. They knew that she had still been in the car when they'd gotten to her phone, but by the time they'd gotten Luna, the ride had ended. And they still didn't know where in the park she might have been dropped off, really, and if they took the wrong path...

Anya turned her attention back to the road. She was careful to keep her speed under what would draw attention to them, but the drive to the park still seemed interminable. 

"What do we do when we get there?" Niylah asked. "How do we find the place that Ontari was talking about? There's hundreds of acres."

"I assume it can't be _too_ far off the beaten path, if Echo took Ontari there when they were younger. It doesn't seem like she would take her on some kind of epic hike at the end of a joy ride to celebrate getting her license." It was an assumption based on very little evidence, Anya knew, and maybe it was just wishful thinking. But if it had taken them a long time to get there by foot, Ontari would have mentioned that. Probably. "So we hope that there's someone around who works there and knows the area, and can point us in the right direction. I have to think that it would be a pretty well-known spot." Again, an assumption. A hope. But hope was all they had.

"Are we going to tell them why we're there?" Luna asked. "Maybe they can help us look."

Anya frowned. On one hand, it made sense. There were only three of them, and a lot of ground to cover. More sets of eyes might be an advantage, and she was suddenly kicking herself for deciding not to have as many people come as they could get. But on the other hand, if some stranger found her – and found her alive – what would they do? Would they be able to talk her down, or would they spook her and force her hand?

She slammed her hand against the steering wheel as they got stopped at a light. 

"What's wrong?" Niylah asked. 

"I'm just sick of this," Anya said. "Sick of losing people, or almost losing people. Sick of not knowing until it's too late – or almost too late – that there's something seriously wrong."

Niylah leaned forward slightly. "You've lost someone?"

"My high school best friend," Anya said. "Shot himself." She didn't mention Lexa just giving up on life, because it wasn't her story to tell. Well, it was and it wasn't, but since Lexa was alive and thriving now, she wasn't going to be the one to open the closet door and let out those skeletons to someone they didn't know that well.

"I'm sorry," Niylah said.

"Me too," Anya replied. The light turned green and she stepped on the gas.

"If we find her... what happens after?" Luna asked. 

"It depends on what kind of state she's in," Anya said. "We don't know what her plan is. She may need to go to the hospital, at which point they'll probably put a psychiatric hold on her, and... we figure it out from there."

Luna nodded. "Assuming that she hasn't actually done anything yet, if we can get her to the car, what then?"

"We figure out her state of mind," Anya said. "If it's bad – if she's really bad – we take her to a hospital anyway. She'll hate it – hate us – probably, but..." She shrugged. "Hopefully she'll get over it."

Niylah grimaced. "How do we decide what's bad enough for that?"

"How hard she fights us, I guess," Anya said. "I'm not an expert here. But if it seems like she's not actively a danger to herself... we can try to just take care of her ourselves. Do our own 72-hour hold. Keep an eye on her for a couple of days, see if we can get her to talk. Something led to this. Something pushed her to this point. We just need to figure out what, and how to make it better."

Niylah nodded, but she didn't look all that sure about the plan. Which wasn't so much a plan as a prayer. 

"And if we're too late?" Luna asked softly, because it was a very real possibility and something that they needed to be prepared for just as much as they needed to prepare for what they would do if they were able to bring her home. 

"We stay with her until the ambulance... or the coroner... comes," Anya said just as softly. 

They were silent for the rest of the trip. When they arrived, the gates were up and they were able to just drive through. One of the booths did have a park ranger in it, though, so Anya drove up to it and asked if she knew of anywhere in the park with really good echoes. She felt ridiculous asking, and terrified that the ranger would look at her like she was crazy, but thankfully the woman nodded. "Sure," she said. "Just keep driving up that way, and when you get to the fork, head left. It dead ends in a parking lot, but you'll see the trail from there."

"Thank you," Anya said, and had to fight not to stomp on the gas. 

They followed the instructions they'd been given, and soon found themselves in the aforementioned parking lot.

It was empty, but it's not as if the Lyft driver would have hung around. 

Anya parked and they got out of the car, quickly heading up the trail. There weren't signs, but it was easy enough to follow, and then they saw a clearing on one side that took them to a cliff above the river.

A small, dark figure knelt at the cliff's edge, so close her feet were probably hanging over. A glint of metal in her hands, a blade turned toward her stomach, her eyes closed tight.

"Echo!" Niylah shouted.

It bounced back at them a hundredfold.

* * *

**Eight Years Ago**

_Ontari_

"Come on," Echo said. "Get up."

Ontari groaned and rolled over, burying her face in her pillow. "It's _Saturday_ ," she moaned. "It's _early_."

"You can sleep in the car," Echo said, yanking the blankets off of her and getting her arms under her shoulders and knees like she planned to lift her up and carry her. Ontari wondered if she actually could... and decided to test it. She draped an arm over the back of Echo's neck and then clasped her hands.

Echo grunted as she heaved her up, but she _did_ manage to do it, and to hold her there, her weight tipped precariously back to compensate. "I am not carrying you to the car," she said. "Anyway, you don't want to go out in your pajamas."

By which she actually meant 'your mother will kill you if you're seen in public in your pajamas' and they both knew it. Ontari tucked her face against Echo's neck. "It's early," she said again.

"I know," Echo said. "But I want to get there before other people."

"Get where?" Ontari asked.

"You'll see," Echo said. "We can stop for donuts on the way."

The promise of grease and sugar was finally enough to make Ontari summon the energy to stand on her own, and to get dressed. 

"Nothing nice," Echo told her. "We're going to be outdoors."

"Ugh," Ontari said, but she didn't really mean it. Or she did, but she was willing to accept the dirt and the bugs and whatever else came with it to have Echo's undivided attention. She rifled through her drawers until she found something that seemed suitable for the occasion and got dressed, clomping down the stairs in hiking boots she'd barely worn (and hoped wouldn't give her blisters). 

"Come on," Echo said, grabbing her sleeve and tugging her along to get her to move faster. 

"Who's driving us?" Ontari asked. 

"I am," Echo said, her face splitting in a grin as she jingled a set of keys. 

"Wait, what?" Ontari's eyes widened. 

"I got my license yesterday," Echo said. "I got a car last night."

So that's what her mother had taken Echo out to celebrate. Ontari hadn't been invited. Ontari was never invited, because she was just a kid. Not that Echo wasn't, but apparently the difference between ten and sixteen was a lot bigger than six years. 

"Wow," Ontari said as she sank into the passenger's seat. 

"I know," Echo said. She put the key in the ignition and turned it, and backed slowly and carefully out of the huge garage. She tapped on the console display and got it to play some music, and then headed for their favorite donut place. "A half dozen, you think?" she asked. 

Nia would kill them both for consuming that many empty calories, but Ontari nodded anyway, and picked out her three favorites, and took the box when it was handed across the counter. They ate their first one before even leaving the parking lot, then Echo put an address into the GPS and they were on the road again, singing along to the music as they went.

There was only one other car in the little parking lot when they got to wherever it was that Echo was taking her, so Ontari guessed they'd managed to beat whatever crowds Echo was hoping to avoid. If a place like this could or would even get crowded; Ontari didn't really understand the appeal of hiking, and didn't know why people would decide to just walk around for fun. 

"Come on," Echo encouraged, reaching to take her hand and lead her along. "It's not far."

Ontari followed, dragging slightly behind just so that Echo wouldn't let go of her. They finally arrived at a clearing, a giant rock that jutted out over the river. She was content to stay well back from the edge, but Echo slid an arm around her and pulled her right up to it. "Check this out," she said, and let go of Ontari to cup her hands around her mouth as she shouted, "Echo!"

_Echo Echo Echo Echo 'cho 'cho 'cho..._

Her voice bounced back at them from the rocks and hills, slowly fading. 

"Whoa," Ontari said. 

"Right?" Echo grinned at her.

Ontari hesitated, then shouted her own name out into the void, but mostly what came back was 'ari', which was a nickname that no one called her. Sometimes Echo called her 'Tari, but not often, because Nia made a disgusted face every time she heard it. So instead she shouted, "Hello!" and the hills were polite enough to greet her in return. 

"Sometimes I come out here just to think," Echo said. 

"You get people to drive you all the way out here just to think?" Ontari asked. 

Echo shook her head. "There are busses, and taxis," she said. "I don't want—" She stopped herself. "I'd rather keep it to myself."

So what she'd started to say was, 'I don't want Nia to know about it.' Which would be what would happen if she had someone drive her. 

But she'd shared it with Ontari. 

She slid her arm around Echo's waist, and felt Echo's arm drop around her shoulders, and they just stayed like that for a long time, sitting on the edge of the rock and basking in the sun and the solitude, for as long as they dared.

* * *

**Today**

_Echo_

_Echo Echo Echo 'cho 'cho 'cho..._

She opened her eyes and saw three figures, blurred by the tears she'd been holding behind squeezed tight eyelids. 

They'd found her. 

_How_ had they found her? 

What had she overlooked?

She closed her eyes again.

_Stupid. Stupid girl. You can't even get this one thing right._

"Put down the knife."

Her hands shook as she pressed the point harder into her skin, felt it pierce through, felt the blood bead up, and all it would take would be one good thrust, and it would be over.

Except they'd found her, and they would call for help. 

"Go away," she said through gritted teeth. 

"Please, Echo." The voice was both closer and quieter now, and not one she immediately recognized. She opened her eyes and saw Lexa's wild-haired friend, the one with the accent and the gentle smile. "It hurts," she said. "I know it hurts."

"You don't know anything," Echo snarled, and grunted as she forced the knife a little deeper, but still not nearly deep enough, and why couldn't she just do it? 

"You want it to stop," the girl – Luna, her name was, Echo remembered now, for all that it mattered – said. "I know that too. But this isn't the answer."

"It's the _only_ answer," Echo said. 

"It's not," Luna told her. "It _feels_ like the only answer, but it's not. It's just the easiest one."

"You think this is _easy_?" Echo asked, her grip on the knife slipping a little, the hilt coated with blood. 

"I think you want it to be." Echo could see that she was moving, so she edged backward, inching away, and maybe that was the answer. Maybe she could just forget the knife and push off and fall. 

Luna stopped, held up her hands. "Okay," she said. "I won't come any closer." She sank down to her knees and sat back on her heels, not close enough to reach her, even if she lunged. "Tell me why this is the only answer."

"There's nothing more for me here," Echo said. "I have _nothing_. I belong nowhere."

"You have me," Luna said. "You have us." 

Echo looked past her and saw Anya there, clutching a phone in one hand, the other crossed over her chest like she was trying to protect herself. Next to her was Niylah, her eyes wide, her expression pleading. 

_Fuck._

She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't even know about this, know that it was happening. How did anyone, but especially these three, know anything? 

She'd planned it so that before there was any chance of anyone wondering where she was, before anyone got home to see that her things were missing, before they had time to search the room and find the keys, it would already be too late. She would be gone.

But here they were, and her too much of a coward to just do what she'd come here to do. 

She'd been so careful. She'd tried to make it easy for them to just forget her. 

Why the hell were they were?

"You have your friend Ontari," Luna said. "She reached out to all of us because she was worried about you. That's not nothing."

Echo shook her head, a bitter laugh trapped in her throat. "Ontari doesn't care about me," she said. "She made that very clear."

"She wants to talk to you," Anya said. "I have her on the phone. She wants to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to her," Echo said. She didn't need to be told again how much Ontari hated her, how she'd let her down, how she was stupid and deluded and pathetic and worthless. She knew all of those things. She tightened her grip on the knife again. 

"She says she's sorry," Anya said. "She says please."

Echo tried to force the knife deeper, hunching over with the pain of it, her eyes closing against her will, and in that brief lapse Luna was suddenly on her, yanking the knife from her hands and yanking her back from the cliff's edge. Echo tried to fight, but Luna was stronger than you'd expect, stronger than she looked, and she held on, hushing her until she went still.

"Echo."

Ontari's voice on speaker, coming from Anya's phone. "Echo please. Please don't do this, please don't... don't let her win. She's taken everything... everything from both of us. Don't let her take us away from each other."

"You took yourself away," Echo said. "You did that. Not her."

"I'm sorry. Please."

Echo forced herself to a sitting position, and Luna let go of her, but stayed close enough that she could grab her if she tried to do anything. Smart girl. "I don't see what the big deal is," she said. "When something becomes obsolete, you get rid of it."

"You're not a _thing_ , Echo," Ontari protested. "You're a person!"

"That's literally the exact opposite of what you told me a few days ago," Echo said. 

"I was wrong!" Ontari said, and Echo could hear the tears in her voice, and that probably should have made her feel something, but it didn't. She was cold, empty, numb. "Okay? I was wrong. I'm coming home to see you. Please just let me see you."

Echo shook her head, and felt Luna's hands on her arms tighten, felt her lean in so close that her lips almost brushed her ear. "I am stronger than the darkness," she whispered. "I am bigger than this pain. There will be better moments. I will be whole again." Her arms slid around Echo, and without meaning to or wanting to, Echo leaned back into the warmth of her. "Say it," she said. "I am stronger than the darkness..."

Echo swallowed, tears sliding down her cheeks from behind her closed eyes. "I am..."

"... stronger than the darkness," Luna prompted again.

"... stronger than the darkness."

"I am bigger than this pain."

"I am bigger than this pain.

"There _will_ be better moments."

"There will be better moments..."

"You _will_ be whole again."

Echo gave up. She surrendered. Her head fell back against Luna's shoulder. 

"I will be whole again."

"Good girl," Luna murmured. 

Echo opened her eyes. "What was that?"

"Something I used to get me through my own darkness," Luna said. "But that's not a story for now. Later, when you are warm again."

Echo nodded. She was too tired to fight anymore.

Luna must have felt the last of her resistance drain away. She pressed a kiss to her temple, a simple gesture from a near stranger that was enough to bring on a fresh wave of tears. "Shh," Luna soothed her. "Let's get you home."

* * *

**Today**

_Anya_

Anya took the phone off of speaker, but she didn't say anything or put it to her ear. She watched as Echo stood up slowly, and didn't try to stop Niylah when she approached her. She wanted to call out to Luna to watch Echo, to keep a hand on her, because she didn't actually trust that this was over. Her giving in might have been a trick, a ruse to get them to let down their guards, and as soon as they thought crisis had passed, she would make a run for it, to get the knife or just to run until the ground disappeared out from under her. Where _was_ the knife?

But Luna didn't need to be told. She put herself between Echo and the cliff, put a hand on her back while Niylah wrapped her scarf around Echo's bleeding arm. They positioned themselves one on either side of her as they began to walk her away from the edge. 

"What's going on?" Ontari asked. "Tell me what's going on!"

Anya handed her car keys to Niylah as they passed. "I'll be right there." Niylah nodded and kept walking. She put the phone to her ear. "She's okay," she said. "For now."

"What do you mean 'for now'?" Ontari demanded. 

"I mean that I don't know if this is really over," Anya said. "This wasn't a joke, or a ploy for attention. This wasn't even a cry for help." Sure, it had seemed like Echo was hesitating when they got there, like she hadn't quite summoned the... whatever it took... to go through with ending her life. But they didn't actually know how long she'd been there before they arrived. It might only have been a few minutes. And the fact that she hadn't immediately given up, the fact that she'd _continued_ to hurt herself with them standing right there... One push in the wrong direction and things might have gone very differently. "She was going to do it. We stopped her... got her to stop... but that doesn't make everything automatically better. It doesn't make whatever led to this just go away."

Silence on the other end, but Anya could hear her breathing, could hear the background noise of tires on pavement and traffic whooshing by. "We don't know what pushed her to this point," she said. "We realized that we don't know much of anything about her at all. You do, I think. And I think that you need to really consider, long and hard, what you're going to say to her when you see her, what you're going to do."

"Is that a threat?" Ontari asked. 

"No," Anya said. "It's a warning. There's a difference."

"I'm not sure I see one."

"A threat has consequences for you," Anya said. "A warning has consequences for her."

* * *

**Today**

_Echo_

Echo looked up when she heard footsteps, saw Anya with her phone clenched in her hand, and she wondered what she'd said to Ontari, or what Ontari had said to her, but she didn't ask.

"Let's go," Anya said. 

"I'm not getting in your car like this," Echo said. "I don't want to..." She gestured with her blood-streaked hands. 

Anya frowned, then went to the trunk and opened it, pulling out a dark blanket. "I can wash this if I need to," she said, and wrapped it around Echo's shoulders, pulling it tight and rubbing her arms once, briskly, before letting her go. Echo let herself be bundled into the back seat of Anya's car with Niylah sitting next to her and Luna riding shotgun.

"What happens now?" Echo asked as the car rumbled to life. She watched as Anya fiddled with the console, cranking up the heat all the way. She assumed that was probably for her benefit. She wasn't actually feeling the cold, and that probably wasn't a good sign. 

"What do you want to happen now?" Anya asked, catching her eye in the rearview mirror.

"I—" Echo looked down, away. "I don't know," she said. 

"We can take you to the hospital," Anya said. "Have you checked out."

"They'll commit me," Echo said. 

"Probably." Anya backed out of the space and turned around, heading back toward the road that would take them out of the park. "Maybe that's what you need."

Echo shook her head. "It won't help," she said. "I don't... can't... _won't_ talk to them. About any of this."

"Will you talk to us?" Anya asked. The words didn't come out like she was begging Echo to let her in, to let her try to fix it. She asked like she needed to know the answer. Yes or no. Simple as that.

It wasn't that simple. 

The silence stretched.

"I didn't get a good look at the cut," Niylah said. "You might—"

"No," Echo said. "No hospital."

"You didn't answer my question," Anya said. 

She hadn't answered because she didn't know the answer, and finally that's what she said. "I don't know."

"At least you're honest," Anya said. "If we take you home, we're not just going to go away and leave you to your own devices. I hope you know that."

"I don't have a home," Echo said. 

"They didn't replace you in a few hours," Anya said. 

Echo shook her head. "I can't go back there."

"Why not?"

"Because I left."

"You were gone a few hours. A night. I'm pretty sure that you've been gone for more than a night before, and you went back then. Why is this different?"

"There's nothing there for me," Echo said. "Literally. There's nothing there."

"I'm sure you can borrow whatever you need until you get things sorted out," Niylah said. "I'll talk to my brother."

"Don't," Echo said. "The last thing I need is him thinking I'm crazy." There was no love lost between Niylah's brother John and... well, pretty much anyone, except his girlfriend Emori. Echo and Emori got along all right most of the time. Well enough that they could live together, anyway, along with Lincoln and Octavia. She was pretty sure that the other three could and would forgive her for this. John wouldn't. He wasn't the forgiving type.

"You're not crazy," Niylah said. "And I can deal with him." Her jaw was set, and sometimes Echo forgot that underneath her kindness, Niylah was as strong as anyone, and stubborn, too. So Echo didn't try to fight her anymore. She just leaned back and stared out the window, watched the world slide by without really seeing any of it. 

When they got back the house, no one was there, the only car in the driveway her own, and Echo was glad. She couldn't handle everyone staring at her, couldn't stomach the thought of so many worried expressions, pitying looks. 

"I have a key," Niylah said. "John gave me a spare. Just in case." She let them in, and Echo was pretty much forced through the door because both Anya and Luna were behind her, and they weren't going to let her slip by and escape. 

Nothing had changed. 

Of course nothing had changed. It had been less than twenty-four hours since she'd left the house. Like Anya had said, she'd been gone longer than that before. But it felt like it should be different, because _she_ was different, even if she hadn't figured out how. 

"Come on," Niylah said, leading her to the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"I'll find something for you to wear," Anya said, turning and walking away before Echo could say anything. 

"I can—" Echo started to say, but swallowed her objection at Niylah's look. She sat down on the lid of the toilet when Niylah motioned for her to do so, and winced as she peeled away the scarf from around her wrist. Some of the blood had started to dry, and it tugged at the wound. 

Niylah ran her fingers lightly over the skin. "It's pretty big," she said, rummaging through the first aid kit under the sink until she found steri-strips. She turned her to face the sink, extended her arm out under the tap to rinse it with water. "This is going to sting," she said, holding up a bottle of peroxide.

Echo gritted her teeth as she cleaned the wound, then carefully pasted her back together, and tried not to remember.

* * *

**Three Years Ago**

_Echo_

"Hold still," she said softly. "Just hold still." She used the tweezers to pick another fragment of glass – crystal – was crystal anything other than glass that was cut fancy? – from the jagged cuts that marred Ontari's cheek. "I'm almost done."

She should really take her to the hospital. She should have a professional look at this, have a plastic surgeon sew it all back together with tiny stitches so that hopefully it would heal without scarring. But she couldn't do that without risking Nia's wrath, and they had both had more than enough of that for one night. Not that she'd turned on Echo when she'd finally intervened on Ontari's behalf, but there was no point in tempting fate.

"I'm almost done," she said again, and rinsed the wound until she was absolutely sure that there was nothing still stuck in it, and then patched her up as best she could. It wasn't perfect; it wasn't even pretty. But at least the bleeding had mostly stopped. 

"There," she said, touching Ontari's other cheek lightly. "All done."

Ontari opened her eyes, and Echo hated how empty they were. "Can I go to bed now?" she asked. 

"Yeah," Echo said. "Come on."

"I don't need your help," Ontari said. "It's right there." She pointed.

"I know," Echo said. "I just..."

"Whatever," Ontari said. "I'm fine."

Echo sighed. "You know where to find me if you need me." She started to head for the bedroom door. She had her hand on the knob when Ontari's voice stopped her.

"I mean, you don't have to go if you don't want to..."

Echo turned back around. "Just for a little while," she said. "Until we know the dragon's back in its lair."

* * *

**Today**

_Group Message to Raven, Lexa, Clarke, Octavia, Lincoln, Emori_

**Anya:** We've got her.

 **Octavia:** Thank god. Is she okay?

**Anya:** She's alive.

**Lincoln:** Where are you?

**Anya:** Home. Your home, I mean. Her home, although she doesn't think it is.

**Emori:** Of course it is!

**Anya:** Tell that to your boyfriend.

**Emori:** I will if I have to. He knows better than to argue with me.

**Clarke:** You said she's alive, but what does that mean? Alive isn't the same as okay, or unhurt.

**Anya:** Niylah's patching her up.

**Lexa:** What did she do?

**Anya:** Cut her wrist, then I guess decided that wasn't going to work well enough or fast enough or whatever and decided to go all seppuku.

**Lexa:** Shit.

**Lincoln:** But she's okay?

**Anya:** We got there before she could do serious enough damage to need a hospital, anyway. Physically, she'll heal. Mentally? I don't know. We're trying.

**Clarke:** Is there anything we can do?

**Anya:** I don't know.

**Clarke:** Let us know if there is. 

**Anya:** Well, there's one thing. Lincoln, can I borrow some of your clothes for her? She has nothing but the clothes she was wearing, and they're pretty bloody. I don't know if anyone else in the house's would fit her. Not that yours will, but they won't be too small.

**Lincoln:** Of course. Mine's the dresser on the right when you walk in. Room at the end of the hall upstairs.

**Anya:** Thanks. 

**Emori:** Is it okay for us to come home or should we stay away?

**Anya:** I don't think it's going to help her if she thinks that people are avoiding coming home because of her. 

**Emori:** Okay.

**Anya:** I'll keep you posted.

**Clarke:** Thanks.

* * *

_Text from Raven to Anya_

**Raven:** Are YOU okay?

 **Anya:** I can't think about me right now. 

**Raven:** Is there anything I can do? Not for her. For you.

**Anya:** Just... be ready for me to fall apart later. 

**Raven:** Roger that.

**Raven:** I love you. You know that, right?

**Anya:** I know. I love you too.

**Raven:** Of course you do. I'm awesome.

**Anya:** Thanks for that. First time I've smiled all day.

**Raven:** :-*

* * *

**Today**

_Ontari_

Ontari pulled into the driveway, slamming the car into park, her door open even before she'd turned off the ignition. She ran up to the door and pounded on it before remembering that she had a key. She'd just gotten it into the lock when the door opened. "Who are—" she started, then just pushed past the girl who had opened the door. She knew her name, if she thought about it, but she was past thinking. "Where is she?"

"In the living room," the girl – woman, whatever – said. "But—"

Ontari didn't wait to hear what the 'but' was. She didn't care. She just stormed into the living room, straight over to where Echo was curled up at one end of the couch in a t-shirt and pajama pants several sizes too big for her, her knees pulled up to her chest and a mug of something cradled in her hands. She started to sit up, but was knocked back again when Ontari's hand came crashing down against the side of her face.

She hadn't known she was going to do that. She stared down at her hand like it had developed a mind of its own, but then something ugly rose up in her and she lifted her hand again... only to have it caught by someone. She turned to look and saw Anya, who shook her head.

"Let go of me," Ontari growled. 

"No," Anya said. "This is not how a black belt behaves."

"This isn't the dojang," Ontari said. 

"I don't care," Anya told her. 

"You don't get to pull rank on me here," Ontari snapped. 

"You don't get to pull this bullshit on one of my friends anywhere," Anya replied, infuriatingly calm. Ontari tried to break her grip, to escape, but the fact was that Anya _did_ outrank her, which meant she had more years of training, and no matter what Ontari did, she would have a counter to it. So finally she stopped fighting. "Are you done?" Anya asked.

"Yes," Ontari said. 

"Good." She let go.

Ontari briefly considered hauling back and hitting Echo again, just to spite Anya, but then she looked at Echo again, and all she could see was the girl she had met nine years ago, only with nearly a decade's worth of knowledge of just how bad the world could treat a person in her eyes. 

"Why?" she demanded. "Why did you do this?"

"Why do you care?" Echo asked. "You're the one who told me you were done with me. You're the one who told me to forget you."

Ontari barely remembered saying it, but she believed that she had. She had a habit of saying a lot of things that she only half, or maybe not even half, meant in the heat of the moment. It was a bad habit that she'd never tried very hard to break because it was in direct contrast to Nia's cold calculation of every word, every move. 

So she'd probably said it. Maybe, at the time, she'd meant it. Or maybe she'd meant the exact opposite.

No, she'd definitely meant the exact opposite. So much for the efficacy of reverse psychology.

"I thought it would make you snap out of it," she said. "That you would realize that she was no good for you. That you would choose me over her. Instead you chose... this." She gestured at Echo's bandaged wrist. "Instead you chose to be selfish."

Echo's eyes widened. "Selfish? You think that's what this is?"

Ontari could feel the others in the room bristling, maybe getting ready to jump to Echo's defense, maybe preparing to throw her out. She wanted to tell them to leave, to let them settle this between themselves, that it was none of their business and they knew nothing about anything, but she didn't think they would care about anything she had to say at this point. 

"Oh, you were being altruistic, then?" Ontari asked. "Thought you were doing us all a favor by just—"

"Yes," Echo said. "You made it clear you didn't want me in your life anymore, and with that tie cut, I didn't have any purpose anymore, so—"

"I'm your _purpose_? If you can't serve my— _her_ , you thought you would serve me instead?" Ontari scoffed. 

"Yes," Echo said. "You really have no idea, do you?"

"About what?"

"Why your mo—" She stopped herself before Ontari could stop her. "Why Nia cut me loose. You really don't know?" 

Ontari shrugged, then shook her head. No, she didn't know. Who knew what the hell went on in the head of that woman? She certainly didn't, and she didn't care, either. Getting away from her had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. She'd finally had a chance to breathe without worrying that she'd done it the wrong way and would pay for it later.

Echo looked at her, and she still looked so young, so uncertain, but a little bit of the fire and steel was back in her eyes. "Because of you," she said. "Because I fought for you. Because I fought for myself. She decided she'd had enough."

"When did you ever fight for me?" Ontari asked. 

Echo raised her eyebrows, and then reached up and pointed to the left side of Ontari's face, where the skin was marred by a tracing of fine scars that she tried not to think about. "Do you remember that night?"

"No," Ontari lied.

* * *

**Three Years Ago**

_Ontari_

"You stupid little slut."

Ontari had only made it two steps into the house before those words were hurled at her from behind. She didn't even manage to turn around to see her attacker (not that she needed to) before she was being pushed farther into the house, tripping over her own feet because she wasn't exactly sober. 

"Did you think I wouldn't find out? Do you think I don't know everything that goes on in this house?"

"I wasn't in this house," Ontari said, knowing the words were a mistake before they'd even slid from her thick tongue. 

"You filthy, disgusting, idiotic—"

Each word was punctuated by a shove, and Ontari stumbled into a table, knocking into it so hard that the crystal vase on it toppled over, shattering when it hit the floor and spilling water and flowers everywhere. 

"—whore!" Nia shoved her one more time, and she slipped on the water and went down. 

One of the crystal shards was only a fraction of an inch from her eye, and her chest heaved as she realized how close she had just come to being blinded. 

"Stop." A voice. Footsteps. "She's hurt."

She didn't even notice the blood swirling into the water until Nia made a sound of disgust. "Get her out of my sight," she said. "And clean up this mess."

She'd been lifted up by some of the servants, but halfway up the stairs their hands had been replaced by another set, gentler but no less strong. "I've got you," Echo said. "Don't listen to her. Just... Iet's get you cleaned up."

* * *

**Today**

_Echo_

"Do you think it was a coincidence that at the end of that summer you were suddenly being sent off to an exclusive boarding school?" Echo asked.

"I thought she was punishing me," Ontari said. "She sent me away because she couldn't stand to look at me." She rubbed at the scar on her cheek, which was a lot less noticeable now than it had been then. 

"So did she," Echo said. "Because that's what I wanted her to believe."

Ontari frowned. "What?"

"She thought I was loyal to her. I _was_ loyal to her. But I was loyal to you first. You needed to get away from her before she could destroy you. A few words in the right ears, whispers getting back to her, and she was shipping you off, thinking it was to punish you in a way that she could spin to make it look like she wanted the best for you, and you were safe for most of the year." Echo looked her straight in the eye. "You're welcome."

"And you?" Ontari asked, her voice a lot softer now, a lot less certain of who the bad guy was. "You said you fought for yourself, too."

Echo looked down. "Forget it," she said. 

"No." Ontari took a step closer, and Echo saw Anya shift to intercept her if she had to. She wanted to say that she didn't need Anya or anyone to stand up for her, but she wasn't sure that was true right now. "Please, Echo."

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have said that. Not to you."

She saw the words register, saw the hurt in Ontari's eyes. "Why not to me?"

"Because my day's been bad enough without having you tell me that I got what I deserved, that I should have known it would happen, and what did I expect?" Echo felt bile rising, burning the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down. She was not going to be sick, even as the memories rose and threatened to drag her down into darkness she wasn't sure she would return from a second time.

* * *

**Six Months Ago**

_Echo_

Every day she waited for the call. Every day she scanned the news, hoping to find something, anything. No call came. No headline ran. There was no scandal, no indictment, nothing...

She bit her tongue until it bled, but finally she couldn't stay quiet anymore. 

"Do you have a minute?"

Nia looked up from the papers she was skimming. "Of course," she said, almost smiling as she gestured for Echo to sit in the chair across from her. "What can I do for you?"

"Have you heard anything?" she asked. "I know that these things can take time, but they gathered all of the evidence, they—"

Nia sighed. "Echo, you shouldn't get your hopes up," she said. "They did what they could, but there wasn't much to go on. Not when you couldn't give a clear account of what happened." 

Echo blinked. "But you—" She stopped at Nia's upraised hand.

"I know," Nia said. "Unfortunately, it seems unlikely that anything will come of it. I'm sorry if that disappoints you, but that's often the way that it is in cases like this."

Disappointed? Was that what she as feeling? She didn't think disappointment made you want to tear open your own skin and crawl out of it to escape yourself. But discarding her skin wouldn't take away the memories... such as they were. It wouldn't keep her from waking up in the middle of the night disoriented and terrified, just like she had...

"I gave them a _name_ ," she said. "I may not remember everything, but I remember—"

"Just because you were with him before doesn't mean that he was the one who did anything," Nia said. "I'm sorry." She said the words but she didn't mean them, and finally, _finally_ Echo realized why she was trying to convince her that it was a non-starter. Because it was.

Not because of lack of evidence. Not because of what she did or didn't remember. 

It would go nowhere because Nia didn't want it to go anywhere. It would go nowhere unless she wanted it to, when she could use it to her advantage, for her own gain. 

And Echo had done it to herself, by telling her in the first place. By going to her before she went to the police. By trusting her.

"I think you need a break," Nia said. "This has all been very hard on you, understandably so, and I just don't think your head is in the right place to do the job that I need you to do. So I'm going to give you some time off, some time to get yourself together and to decide where you want to go in life. You have been invaluable to me over the years, and of course I will make sure that you are well-compensated for everything you've done, just as I've done all along. Don't worry about that. You just take some time to take care of you."

She was being let go. Dismissed. Paid off, but dismissed. For her own good, if she bought how Nia was spinning it. 

"That's not it," Echo said. "I can keep working. This doesn't—"

But Nia was shaking her head slowly, sadly. "I know you want to be useful, Echo. I understand that. And you've done so well, but I think this has been building for some time now. You've been... compromised. When you should have had my back, you've made other... things your priority. At first I let it slide, but I don't think I can do that anymore. Don't think that your little machinations, your little interventions, have gone unnoticed. It's admirable, really, that you care so much about my daughter. But it's not useful to me. So it's time we parted ways. I'll have someone help you gather your things."

She looked down then, the conversation over, and Echo had no choice but to get up and leave, because if she hadn't, she would have been removed. 

And she might not have a home anymore, or a job, but she at least still had her dignity.

* * *

**Today**

_Ontari_

"What happened?" Ontari demanded. Even though she knew, or she could guess. What her... what _was_ Echo to her? Not a sister. Not a friend. Yet both of those things. What she had done for her mother had been dangerous. She'd played games with powerful men, games she'd been very good at, but apparently, finally, she'd lost.

"Do you want us to go?" Niylah asked. Ontari had almost forgotten there was anyone but the two of them in the room, even with Anya hovering over her, ready to get between them if Ontari got any more ideas. 

Echo shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she said. "That's been made very clear."

"By who?" Anya asked. "Neither of you has ever actually said who Ontari's mother—"

"She's not my mother," Ontari said, like a reflex. 

"Who her guardian is. Was, I guess, now that she's eighteen. And your employer."

Ontari waited for Echo to answer... or not answer. If she was still loyal, even now after everything...

"Senator Haiplana," Echo said. 

Anya sucked in a breath. 

"And in case you hadn't figured it out, my job was to gather information for her, to find things she could leverage against her political opponents, opportunities to exploit her allies... whatever she needed, by whatever means necessary."

* * *

**Today**

_Echo_

Echo waited for the words, or really the implication, to sink in, to settle. She waited for these women who had saved her life to realize who – what – they had saved.

To regret it.

They didn't. Or at least they didn't seem to. They didn't squirm or flinch. They didn't look disgusted. They looked... concerned (Niylah), heartbroken (Luna), and pissed as all hell (Anya). Ontari just looked resigned, like she'd just had confirmed what she'd known and not wanted to know all along. 

"Is that even legal?" Anya asked. 

Echo's mouth quirked. "I tended to operate in very gray areas," she said. "But I never did anything that was entirely illegal."

"I'm pretty sure it's illegal to force someone to—"

"She didn' t force me to do anything," Echo said. "No one fo—" But she couldn't say it, because it was a lie. 

She watched Ontari close her eyes, and then open them. She watched her take a step closer, until she was standing right in front of her. Then she watched her kneel, and watched her take her hands, and watched her press her cheek against them. She watched, but she didn't feel any of it. It was like she was absent from her own body.

It was a feeling she'd started to get used to, and if she'd been able to summon it earlier, maybe she wouldn't have hesitated.

* * *

**Seven Months Ago**

_Echo_

She woke up dizzy, nauseous, and in pain. She didn't know where she was or how she'd gotten there. The room was bright – too bright – and she closed her eyes against the glare. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, soaking into her hair, and she couldn't have stopped them if she'd tried.

It took three tries before she managed to roll over, and the tears fell faster when she saw that her phone was still there. Wherever she was, however she'd gotten here, at least she had a way to reach someone, to get out. 

She picked it up and tapped on the number that was only to be used for emergencies. She was pretty sure this counted.

"Hello?" Nia's voice, and the silent tears turned into sobs.

"Please," she said. "I need help."

"Tell me where you are," Nia said. "I'll be right there."

* * *

**Today**

_Ontari_

Ontari looked up at her, trying to focus through the blur of tears. "She knew. Didn't she?"

Echo nodded.

"And she did nothing."

She shook her head. "She did something. She let me believe that she would do something. And then when she didn't and I asked... she let me go. She paid me off and she let me go. And I let her do it."

"You could still—"

Echo shook her head again. "You know I can't. You know I wouldn't win."

Ontari did know. 

"That doesn't mean you give up," she said. 

"I have nothing else," Echo told her. 

"That's not true," Ontari said. "You have me."

Echo smiled, but it was a sad smile. The smile of someone who wanted to soften bad news, who knew they were being fed lies and didn't want to upset anyone by calling them out. "You told me to forget you."

"I didn't know," Ontari said. "I just got so angry at you."

"And I still don't understand why. But it doesn't matter."

"Because that morning, the morning of the march, you were trying to talk me out of it. You were worried about how it would make that bitch look if I was seen there."

Echo sighed. "That's what you thought?"

"That's what—" _I know_ , Ontari finished, but not out loud, because she didn't know. She'd assumed. But she didn't know. She'd been too impatient, too quick to jump to conclusions, too determined to see the whole rest of the world as being out to get her, an enemy to be fought and vanquished. 

"I was worried about what she might do to get back at you if she thought you were doing something that would damage her reputation. If she thought that you were doing it just to spite her. I was worried about _you_ , not about _her_. She was already done with me, but you... you'd called me. I could still be of use, if you still needed me. Even if you hated me... I could still look out for you. But then you made it clear that you didn't need me, or want me. So what's the point?"

"The point... of living?" Ontari frowned. "Echo, I can't be your reason for living. That's not... that's not how life works. You need to live for _you_."

"I don't know who that is," Echo said. "Since I left home when I was fifteen, my entire life, my identity, has been defined by what I do and who I do it for. Without that... I'm nothing. I'm no one."

* * *

**Today**

_Anya_

Anya swallowed hard. Because Echo meant every word she said, and every word she said was like the edge of the knife she'd tried to end her life with.

"We can't tell you who you are," Anya said. "We can't... we can't fix this for you. We can't make the feelings go away, or fill up all of the empty places inside of you. But we can – we _will_ – be with you while you figure those things out for yourself. If you want us to be." She looked around at the others in the room, and they all nodded. "Do you want us to be?"

Echo looked at her, looked at the rest of them, and god, she looked so fucking young, so fucking lost, it was like Lexa all over again. She didn't say anything, though. Didn't nod or shake her head.

"You have to decide," Anya said. "We can't do it for you. We can help you find reasons, little ones until you find the bigger ones, but you have to decide for yourself if you want to live."

Echo shook her head, and Anya's shoulders slumped. She looked down, defeated. She'd been able force Lexa to function, but she couldn't do that with Echo. She couldn't do that again. 

"Echo," Luna said. "Look at me."

* * *

**Today**

_Echo_

Echo felt Luna's hand on her cheek, and she did as she was told.

"What was done to you is not your fault," Luna said.

Echo looked down. "It feels like it is," she said. "I should have known better. I should have been paying more attention. I should have—"

"No," Luna said. "He shouldn't have raped you. It doesn't matter what you did or didn't do."

She didn't have an answer for that. Even if she did, she wasn't sure she could have gotten a word out, because it felt as if all of the air had been sucked from her lungs. It wasn't as if she hadn't used the word herself. It wasn't as if the police hadn't said it so many times it felt like it started to lose meaning. But somehow hearing it in someone else's voice, in front of people she barely knew but who now knew her better than anyone... it felt strange. Wrong, and yet... better. Easier. Because she wasn't trying to keep it in anymore. If someone else said it, it made it true, and if it was true, she didn't have to keep questioning, over and over again, whether maybe she hadn't just somehow imagined the whole thing. 

Or like maybe she was making a bigger deal of it than it actually was. 

She heard the door open, and turned to look. 

"Thank god," Octavia said as she came into the room, boots and jacket and everything still on. "You had us all so fucking worried."

Lincoln came in a few seconds later. He, at least, had taken off his boots. He looked at her, and she looked away. She felt and heard him approach, but didn't look up until his hand came into her field of vision. "Hey," he said, and when she tentatively extended her arm, he grabbed it and pulled her up, pulled her into his arms and held on tight. 

She had to swallow back a sob as the urge to just let herself shatter and hope that he could hold her together somehow rose up. It felt good to be hugged like she wouldn't break... so she wouldn't break. When he finally let go, she sank back down on the couch. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't want anyone to worry. I thought I'd settled everything so that no one would."

"Just disappearing for no reason – or what seems like no reason – doesn't tend to lead to not worrying."

"Neither does sending your life savings to someone," Ontari pointed out. 

"I thought it would take longer to get to you," Echo admitted. "I thought it would take longer for anyone to notice."

"It might have," Lincoln admitted, looking ashamed. "I'm so sorry."

Echo shook her head. "Why are you sorry? You don't have any obligation to me. I'm just a person that you live with."

"You're not just a person we live with," Lincoln said. "If that was all you were, I wouldn't have sent you to Anya's for Thanksgiving when I found out that you were going to be alone, even when you said you were okay with it. Looking forward to it. I would have just took you at your word."

She pressed her lips together. "Still," she said. "I'll understand if you want me to find somewhere else to stay."

"What are you even talking about?" Octavia asked. "The only person in this room who has a problem with you, Echo, is you. Apparently."

Echo looked at Ontari, who frowned slightly and shook her head. "I fucked up," she said. "We both fucked up. And we both know who to blame for our inability to actually communicate like normal people."

"You can't blame—" Echo started to say, and stopped as Ontari's expression hardened. Defending Nia was the last thing she ought to be doing right now if she wanted to keep the peace. "We need to figure out how to move past that," she said. "How to undo what's been done."

"Yeah," Ontari said. "We do."

Conversation dwindled after that. They were all exhausted, and Echo tried to tell those who didn't actually live here that they were free to go home if they wanted to, but Anya was having none of it, and neither were Niylah or Luna. They seemed to have appointed themselves her protectors... or maybe the keepers of the suicide watch. She stopped after a few token objections, knowing a battle that couldn't be won when she saw it. Eventually they settled in to binge some show on Netflix that Echo didn't really understand or care about, and she put her head down and let herself doze, since she hadn't slept more than a few hours total in the last three days. 

When she woke up, Emori was there, and John was coming in. He looked around, his eyebrows going up when he saw everyone, including his sister, and then he just shrugged. "Impromptu dinner party, I guess," he said. "I'm on it."

"Do you mind if we invite a few more?" Octavia asked. 

"Like how many?" John asked. 

"Three? Clarke, Lexa, and Raven."

"Sure," he said. "The more the merrier and all that."

"Need a hand?" Anya asked.

John looked at her and seemed to size her up, then shrugged. "Why not? Cooking for this many people, I'm not gonna pass up an extra set of hands that knows what they're doing."

Echo was surprised. Normally he was so protective of the kitchen that if he was cooking he hated even letting them in to grab something out of the fridge or pantry. Apparently tales of Anya's kitchen skills must have reached him somewhere along the way. 

They disappeared into the kitchen, and Octavia texted her friends to invite them over.

* * *

**Today**

_Anya_

"Nice setup," Anya said, looking around the kitchen.

"Could be better," John said, "but I've mostly been able to arrange it in a way that makes sense."

She watched him as he worked, letting him delegate the more menial prep tasks to her. Her offer to help had been genuine; it gave her something to think about, something to do, that didn't have anything to do with death.

Of course it didn't last. 

"So is anyone going to tell me why there are so many people here, all huddled around Echo who is wearing Lincoln's pajamas?" John asked. "Because I'm starting to feel a little left out."

Anya sighed. It wasn't really her place to tell, but at the same time, they all knew, and he was going to find out eventually. Sooner rather than later, probably. And fuck it, a lot of it _was_ her story at this point. Not what led up to it, but what happened today. But she couldn't quite say the words.

"Should I be hiding the knives?" he asked. "Locking the medicine cabinet?"

"Maybe," Anya said. 

"Right." He looked at her. "I'm not stupid. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together and get failed suicide attempt."

"Not failed," Anya said. "Stopped."

"Is that why she's not locked in the loony bin right now?"

"Pretty much."

"Great. Just when I thought I'd gotten away from living with crazy."

"She's _not_ crazy," Anya said.

"Deciding that the only answer to your problems is to kill yourself isn't exactly sane."

"She didn't do it," Anya said. "Okay?"

"Because someone stopped her. You, I'm guessing, from how much you seem to care."

"And Luna and your sister."

He stopped mid-chop and looked at her. "Niylah was there?"

"Yes."

"That bitch." He went back to chopping, more violently than before. "It's a good thing she didn't finish the job, because if she had and my sister had seen it... I would bring her back just to kill her myself."

* * *

**Today**

_Echo_

Sitting down to dinner together was awkward, and not just because their table wasn't really big enough to accommodate twelve people. From the way that John was looking at her... or not looking at her... she thought maybe Anya had filled him in on the situation while they were cooking. Her cheeks flamed at the thought, and she considered for a second excusing herself. She knew that if she did, though, that someone else would get up, too, and miss out.

She didn't want to be the reason for anyone else's suffering. That's what she'd been trying to prevent, to avoid... and it had backfired spectacularly. So she shut up and ate, the knots in her stomach easing somewhat as conversation that wasn't about her flowed around the table. 

When they got to dessert, John brought out a giant chocolate cake, setting it in the middle of the table. "Pastry rotation," he said. "I get to bring home the fruits of my labor, and you get to enjoy them." He proceeded to cut up the cake, and plates were passed around. When he got to Echo, he stopped. "Oh right." 

He disappeared into the kitchen again, and came back a minute later with a tiny little cake, drizzled liberally with what appeared to be lemon curd, and garnished with a raspberry. "For you," he said, setting it down in front of her. At the strange looks people were giving him, he rolled his eyes. "What? She doesn't like chocolate."

She hadn't realized he'd ever noticed, and maybe it showed on her face, because he shrugged. "I may be an asshole, but I'm an observant asshole."

"I actually love chocolate," she said, "but I'm allergic."

"Shit. That's reason enough to want to off yourself," he quipped.

She smiled. She couldn't help it. Not much of a smile, but something. It wasn't funny... except it actually felt good that he could, or would, make light of it. Like it was just a thing that had almost happened, but she was still here, so now it was something that could be joked about. What doesn't kill you... doesn't kill you. Only time would tell if she was stronger.

"Thank you," she said. "You didn't have to." 

He fixed her with a look. "Yeah, well, doing things we don't have to seems to be going around today."

"John!" Niylah and Emori both said, Niylah irritated and Emori exasperated. 

"Don't," Echo said. "He's right." It hadn't felt that way at the time, and maybe she would change her mind again later, but right now, he was right. She hadn't had to do what she'd done. 

"So it's over, right?" Raven said finally, her voice too loud. "All of this?" She was looking right at Echo. 

Everyone was looking right at Echo.

She opened her mouth, closed it, swallowed. 

"I don't know what shit you've been through, Raven said. "Honestly, I don't care. We've all been through shit. We've all got battle scars. You can give up and die, or you can keep fighting. Just don't think that if you decide to give up, that you're doing us all a favor. You're not. You don't know us any better than we know you. You don't know what your death would do to any of us."

"Raven," Anya said warningly.

"No," Echo said. "It's okay." 

Because being called out made it easier, too, somehow. She didn't want people walking on eggshells around her, trying to shield her from the reality of what she'd done, or almost done. She didn't want them to treat her like she was fragile, like she might break because someone said something the slightest bit harsh. 

If there was one thing that Nia had taught her, it was how to rise to the occasion. How to live up to people's expectations. How to be what someone else wanted her to be. That didn't have to be a bad thing. If they expected her to be strong, she would be strong. 

Maybe she would fall apart later, and maybe that was okay. The two things didn't have to be mutually exclusive, did they? Because if she did, when she did, she wouldn't have to be alone with it. If today had taught her anything, it was that.

"It's over," she said, answering Raven's question.

"Good," Raven said. 

The silence stretched, awkward, and Echo was surprised when it was Ontari who finally filled it.

"Remember the time I had the donut place make Boston cream donuts with vanilla frosting, but I made them dye it brown?" Ontari asked. "You didn't know the difference."

Echo laughed, little more than an exhale, but it felt like something in her loosened enough to let in a feeling that she hadn't had in a long time. Hope. (And also relief that Ontari had picked that story instead of the one where Nia had decided to test her loyalty by making sure that she was served a dish with mole sauce, which contained chocolate, in a situation where refusing to eat it would have caused a scene. She'd eaten it, and paid for it after... but then Nia had nursed her herself, all apologies as if she hadn't known, and Echo had not only forgiven her but had felt honored that she'd chosen to care for her herself, and she really _had_ been an idiot, hadn't she?)

"I knew the difference," she said. "They were still good."

Ontari scowled. "You lied to me!"

"You were a little kid! I didn't want to disappoint you."

"How long have you two known each other?" Octavia asked. 

"Nine years," Echo said. "Since I was fifteen."

"You lived with her... guardian before you worked for her?" Clarke asked.

Echo shook her head. "No. I started working for her pretty much right away. I was working anyway, and she offered me a better deal."

"What were you doing before?" This time it was Niylah, her voice tight, and Echo could practically hear the assumptions rolling through her mind. 

"Working for a caterer," Echo said, "as a server at parties."

* * *

**Nine Years Ago**

_Echo_

Echo tried not to flinch, tried not to let anything show, as a man's hand slid up the back of her thigh, dangerously close to the hem of her too short skirt. This isn't what she'd thought she would be doing when she signed on with the caterer, but then she probably should have realized that everything wasn't on the up-and-up when they'd hired her without even asking for ID.

She would find something better. She just had to get her feet under her. And it could be worse. She may have grown up away from what most people would consider civilization, but she was well aware of what could happen to a girl on her own in the city. She wasn't stupid, or even all that naïve. Hell, she could quit after she got paid for this party, since it was under the table anyway.

She just had to get through it without driving her heel through anyone's throat. Or eye. The eye would probably be a better target. Squishier.

The hand abruptly jerked away when the man was approached by a woman, perfectly made up, not a hair out of place, who greeted him cordially. She didn't know who the woman was, but she was eternally grateful to her, because it gave her the opportunity to escape.

The rest of the party was less eventful. Sure, plenty of the attendees were undressing her with their eyes, but she could deal with that. And okay, maybe a couple of times people might have "accidentally" bumped into her with their hands positioned just right to cop a feel... but at least they pretended to be sorry.

She just wanted to go home (well, back to her motel room) and shower. 

"Excuse me."

Echo turned to see who was addressing her, since there was no one else nearby that they could have been trying to get the attention of. Probably just someone who needed to be pointed in the direction of the bathroom or something. 

It was the woman from before. The one whose sudden appearance had kept her from having to dump a tray of hors d'oeuvres on a man's head to keep him from... She suppressed a shudder. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to come over and tell you that I'm so sorry for what that man was doing to you," she said. "I wish I had noticed sooner."

Echo's eyes widened. She'd assumed that it was a coincidence... but apparently not. "It's fine," she said. "I mean, thank you.

"It's not fine," the woman said. "And I'm afraid it won't be the last time, if you continue in this line of work."

"It's just for now," Echo said. "Until I find something better."

"That was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about," the woman said. "I have a proposition for you. I'm Senator Haiplana, by the way, but you can call me Nia."

"Echo," she said, taking the offered hand. "It's nice to meet you."

* * *

**Today**

_Echo_

"She was at one of the parties, and saved me from a guy who was getting ideas that maybe I was something other than just the girl with the bruschetta. Offered me a job." Echo shrugged.

"Shouldn't you have been in school?" Anya asked. 

"I'd already finished school," Echo said. 

"At fifteen?" 

"After elementary school, I was homeschooled," Echo said. "I did all of my classes online, and there was nothing to stop me just continuing to move ahead, so yes. I finished at fifteen, and decided it was time to see more of the world than a commune in the boonies where it was winter for half of the year."

"Commune?" Lincoln asked. "Like..."

Echo rolled her eyes. "No, not like a weird polygamist cult. Just a bunch of hippies who wanted to peacefully coexist with each other and the earth. It wasn't a bad place to grow up. I just knew there was more to the world than that. And when I told my parents I wanted to go out and experience it, they let me."

"At fifteen," Anya repeated. 

"They trusted me to make good choices," Echo said softly, realizing just how badly she'd let them, and everyone, down.

* * *

**Today**

_Anya_

After dinner everyone started to leave. It wasn't that late, but it had been a long day for everyone, and Anya couldn't help thinking about how nice it would be to just curl up with Raven and pretend that it was an ordinary Friday night.

But despite what Echo had said at dinner, she still didn't trust her to be left alone. It was one thing to be okay when you were surrounded by people. It was another thing to be okay when it was dark and you were alone in the room that you'd emptied in preparation for your own death. 

"It doesn't have to be you," Raven said, when she mentioned that someone should stay with Echo. "Lincoln and Octavia are here. Emori. Ontari. They can keep an eye on her."

"I know what I'm doing, though," Anya said. "I've done this before."

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't have to do it again," Raven said. "This is not your circus. She is not your monkey."

Anya snorted. "She needs to be someone's monkey."

"You can't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders," Raven said. "I mean, you probably _could_ , and look damn good while doing it, but you don't have to."

"I would just feel better if—"

"I'm asking you not to," Raven said. "I'm asking you to come home. With me. Now. To take care of yourself, or better yet, to let me take care of you."

Anya looked at her and let out a breath, not quite a sigh. "Okay," she said. "I just want to make sure that _someone_ will be keeping an eye on her. Constantly. At least for tonight."

"Okay," Raven said. "Do what you need to do, but then we're going home."

* * *

**Today**

_Echo_

Echo knew that they were talking about her again, in whispers behind her back. Talking about how she couldn't be trusted, how they needed to keep watch on her. She couldn't hear the words but she understood the gist, and it wasn't as if Anya hadn't already said it to her face, more or less. It was just a matter of who would stay.

"I'm here," she heard Ontari say. "I can do it."

Then more mumbling, and she could have gotten up and tried to hear it, but she was just tired. Exhausted if not sleepy. Then her efforts to overhear any of it were thwarted by Lexa coming into the living room holding something and looking slightly embarrassed.

"I brought you something," she said. "It's... probably a little corny, but they said that you didn't have anything, and I know what it's like to live in a room with blank walls, with no part of you in it. This is... something that I've had for a long time. I want you to have it now."

Echo held out her hand to accept the gift. A small framed picture... or drawing. A watercolor of a small blue alien, and the words _'Ohana means family, and family means no one gets left behind or forgotten._

She blinked hard against the tears that pricked her eyes.

"I know what it's like to feel like you have nothing and no one," Lexa said softly. "To think the world is better off without you, or maybe just that you're better off without the world. But you're not alone. You have us. We'll be your family. We may all be a little bit broken, but we're good. We're still good."

Echo set the picture aside and stood up to hug her, because she couldn't form any words. Not even 'thank you'. She was pretty sure Lexa got it anyway. 

Clarke stuck her head into the room. "Ready?" she asked. Lexa nodded, letting her go. "Good night, Echo," Clarke said. 

"Good night," she managed. And then, finally, "Thank you."

"Of course," Lexa said. 

Echo didn't know how they decided, but in the end it was Luna who stayed, along with Ontari. They stayed up until it was a fairly reasonable time to go to bed. They were halfway up the stairs before Echo remembered that she'd stripped her bed, given away her sheets and blankets along with everything else. 

How could she have gotten everything so wrong? 

"Go on," Luna said gently, nudging her to keep climbing. 

The door to her room was open, and when she looked inside, her bed was made. Someone else's spare bedding, she assumed, but it was something. Right now, it felt like everything. The rollaway bed that Ontari had been consigned to during the holidays was also back in the room and made up for her. 

"We'll get you new stuff tomorrow," Ontari said. "We'll go to the bank and get your money back in your account—"

"I closed—"

"We'll go to the bank and open you a new account and get your money back into it, and then we'll go shopping."

"It might be nice to start over," Luna said gently. 

Echo nodded because that's what they expected, and then they got ready for bed. Even when she was in the bathroom, one of them was standing outside the door, waiting for her to come out. It was infuriating, but she knew that it was her own fault. 

It was only when they had all brushed their teeth and gone through whatever nighttime rituals they had (with Luna in borrowed pajamas, but not Lincoln's so they fit a little better) that she realized that there were three of them and two beds. They weren't going to actually stay awake and watch her, were they? 

Then Luna sat down on the bed next to her, eyebrows raised. "You don't mind, do you?"

Echo shook her head slowly. She wasn't sure if she minded or not, really, but again, it didn't feel like she had a lot of choice, or room to argue. So she just shifted over to make room for her, and Ontari switched off the lights before curling up in her cot, which creaked slightly every time she shifted. "Good night," she said. "Thank you for..." For what? For alerting her friends? For saving her? For actually listening this time? "Just thank you."

Ontari grunted, "Night," and then there was more rustling as she burrowed under the blankets. It didn't take long for her breathing to even out into the soft, slow rhythm of sleep.

Which left her with Luna, who was still beside her but definitely not sleeping. 

"Why did you stay?" she asked finally, barely more than a breath but she didn't need to speak loudly for someone only a few inches away to hear. Luna was close enough that Echo could feel the warmth radiating from her skin even though they weren't quite touching. 

"I still owe you a story," Luna said. "Or an explanation."

"You don't owe me anything," Echo said. "I'm the one who owes _you_." 

"You don't," Luna said. "And if you feel that you do, I ask that instead of trying to repay me, you pay it forward."

"Is that what you're doing?"

Luna was quiet for a moment, then Echo felt her shake her head. "Not exactly. I didn't have anyone when I most needed someone. I had to figure it out on my own."

"You don't have to tell me," Echo said, even though she was curious. 

"I want to," Luna said. "Not many people know. Here, only Lexa, because she knew him so she knew to ask how he is. Was."

"Who?"

"My brother."

"Am I supposed to ask?" 

Again, she felt Luna shake her head, and without thinking Echo found her hand in the darkness, pressed into the mattress in the small space between their bodies. 

"I killed him," Luna whispered. "Not murder, but... his death is my fault." 

Echo didn't say anything. She barely breathed, waiting for Luna to continue... or not. Maybe that was all she had to say about it. Maybe that was all she _could_ say. She just wrapped her fingers around Luna's, squeezing, and felt Luna squeeze back, hard.

"I was angry," Luna said. "From the time that Lexa left, I was just angry all the time, at everything. At least that's how it felt. That's how I remember it." She paused, collecting her thoughts, maybe, or catching her breath even though they weren't moving and there was no reason for her to be breathless. "I was driving, yelling at my brother, furious at him for some reason that I don't even remember now, and I wasn't paying attention. The car was hit on the passenger's side. I could have tried to save him, but I didn't. I let him die. Now I have to live with that."

"Why—" The word was out before Echo could really think about it. 

"All I could think about was getting away," Luna said. "All I could think about was saving my own life. I should have tried to save him, too."

"You were in shock," Echo said. 

"Maybe," Luna said. "I don't know." She shifted a little closer. "After... everything was just dark. I didn't know what to do, where to go, who to turn to. Not my parents. They had just lost a child, and even if they didn't blame me, I knew the truth. And everyone else I had already pushed away. But somehow I decided that if I was still alive, then I had to make that worth something. I had to let go of my anger and find a way out of the darkness, and I had to live the best way I could. Part of it was that I felt like I owed it to my brother. Most of it, in the beginning. I couldn't lay down and die, because now I had to live for both of us. Something like that."

Luna unclasped their hands and reached out to touch Echo's cheek, then let her fingers trail down to rest over her heart. "And what I said to you was what I said to myself, over and over again, when things seemed too dark to stumble through. When I felt like giving up."

"Why is it in English?" Echo asked. "Why not German?"

"I don't know," Luna said after a moment, like she'd never really thought about it before. "I went to an international school, so I learned English from when I was very young, but I think maybe it helped me really focus on the words, to not have them in my first language." 

"That makes sense," Echo said. "Do you really believe it?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't believe it," Luna said. "You are stronger than you think, Echo. Stronger than you know."

"You didn't kill your brother," Echo said, wanting to give her something... not absolution but something like it, in return for what she'd been given. "It was an accident."

"And there is more to you than the use people find for you," Luna said. "But it's easy for someone else to say, and harder for us to rewrite the stories we have convinced ourselves are the truth." 

"Oh," Echo said. 

Echo felt a weight at the foot of the bed, and then Ontari's voice. "Shove over." Apparently she hadn't been asleep after all, or maybe she'd woken up again. Echo shifted to the middle of the bed, letting Ontari wedge herself between her and wall, and felt her wrap her arm over Echo's waist. "'Always remember that you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think, and more loved than you know."

"Winnie the Pooh?"

"Shut up," Ontari grumbled. "Go to sleep."

Echo smiled. "Good night, Ontari." The only response was an incomprehensible mumble against her shoulder blade. "Good night, Luna."

"Good night," Luna murmured back, brushing her lips against her cheek before rolling over. Echo hesitated before wrapping an arm over her, wondering if it was the wrong thing to do until she felt Luna's arm rest over hers, lacing their fingers together. 

A lot of questions chased themselves around in her mind, about what – if anything – any of this meant, and what would happen tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that, and if she would ever feel like herself again and if she even knew who that was, or if she would ever figure it out. She shoved them all down, trying to stay in the moment. Tomorrow would have to wait.


End file.
